


God Hunt

by Cissil



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Lance (Voltron), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn, Treason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-03-28 17:17:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13908636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cissil/pseuds/Cissil
Summary: "Look kid, do you believe in the Gods?The Emperor is looking for one. Alive. It doesn't matter which one.He'll pay enough to live ten lifes drowning in luxuries.Probably help you get your brother out of that mess he got into, too.That is, of course, if you're even lucky enough to find one."Keith is waiting for the noose to tighten around his neck, and Shiro's only way to save his brother seems unatainable, almost impossible.Good for him, he's lucky enough to find one.





	1. Crackling torches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is greeted by bad news, and then good news. Kinda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO EXCITED!!  
> ive had this au in my mind for AGES and always wanted to write it, but the other day i found an old comic i did and i just, Had to do it.  
> im still dont know where this is going. i have a rough idea of what i want to happen, but im mostly in the dark here, but i just rly rly wanted to write it and post it to have even More determination to finish it and not let it hanging
> 
> i want to give a huge huge huge huge thanks to my friend punkshirogane (thats his @ from twitter) for being my beta, he was a huge help and honestly, a huge motivation bfghj

News travels fast.

 

“Keith!” Shiro’s voice could be heard before he even entered the dungeon, and Keith immediately tensed up. He had only been in the prison for a few hours. Shiro was supposed to still be on guard duty. He knew he’d had to face him soon, but he wasn’t ready yet.

 

News truly  _ does _ travel fast.

 

Shiro’s voice resonated a few more times before he finally reached his cell, breathing heavily from running in full armor, and a few fellow soldiers following behind. One of them even Lord Sendak himself.

 

Wonderful.

 

Just. Wonderful.

 

“Keith!” Shiro stopped in front of the bars of his cell and gripped them tightly, as if doing so would make them disappear. His face, barely visible in the dim light of the torches, but visible still with no helmet in the middle -he must’ve dropped it in the hurry to get to his brother as soon as possible-, looked worried, relieved and disappointed all the same. Mostly relieved at the moment. “Keith.”

 

“Hey Shiro,” Keith tried to play it cool, tried not to worry his brother. Although, it was impossible after what he did. “News travels fast.”

 

He heard Sendak snort behind Shiro, and Keith sent a quick glare at the shadow of the man before looking at his brother, now with an exasperated look in his face.

 

“Keith! Do you think this is a joke?!” Shiro’s voice was harsh, he was clearly not having a good time doing this in front of his peers.

 

“Gods, I wish,” Keith muttered, squinting his eyes at the ground, as if it had offended him. “I still don't regret-”

 

“Keith,” Shiro interrupted him, voice tense. “Keith, you're going to be  _ hanged _ .”

 

Keith gulped, he knew that already, no need to repeat it to him. He heard Shiro sigh.

 

“Can I- Can we have a moment? Please?” Shiro asked of the guards, whom, with a grunt from Mister Pissy-pants ( _ “Sendak,” Shiro always corrected him. “One day he’ll catch you saying that and he won't doubt punishing you, so stop that” _ ), left the two brothers at peace. Or, as peaceful as they could be with one of them expecting a noose around his neck soon.

 

A few seconds later, the noise from moving armor and the pitying looks from Shiro’s teammates abandoned the dungeon, and Sendak yelled a reminder that they had ten minutes before Keith was to be confined in solitude until his hanging.  _ Public _ hanging, that is. Gotta make an example.

 

“Keith, what were you even thinking?!” Shiro didn't even take a second to lash out at his brother. Keith saw it coming, but still couldn't help but flinch. “Insulting the Emperor publicly?!  _ Are you serious?! _ ”

 

“Listen, Shiro-”

 

“Were you even thinking at the moment?! Please tell me, Gods forbid, you weren't drinking, because if you're hanged for having a loose mouth while drunk, I will-”

 

“I wasn't drinking!!”

 

“Then  _ what _ could've made you react so stupidly?! Dare give me an explanation, because I can't honestly believe you were just trying to  _ get yourself killed! _ ”

 

“Because they were going to _ kill _ someone!” Keith’s voice broke, and Shiro took a moment to just look at his brother and breathe, trying to clear his head before speaking again.

 

“What do you mean wi-”

 

“There was a boy- a little kid. He- he stole some bread. I've seen him before, he has a mother and a sister. His father died in the army and our  _ Merciful Emperor _ never payed the tributes and- and he stole some bread. An apple. Just enough for his mother and sister. They- They don't have enough to eat.  _ No one ever does in this gods-forsaken empire _ .”

 

Keith stopped a moment, trying to catch his breath.

 

“He only stole some food, not enough to be missed,” he said, voice low, “but the guards saw him.” Closing his eyes, he clenched his fists. “And they forced him to take them to his family. His mother was blamed for vagrancy and breaking the peace, the kid for committing thievery and trying to run away from the guards. He was gonna get whipped! A kid!” Keith lowered his voice when he said the following words, “he wouldn’t be able to survive that.”

 

Shiro looked at his brother with an understanding, saddened look. Keith knew how insubordination was treated in the capital better than anyone, he had gotten himself in way too much trouble. Shiro could usually make the punishment lesser than it ought to be because of his position, but it wasn’t always like that; before Shiro earned his high rank with unmatched hard work, Keith had suffered terrible punishments by the City Guard, never one to follow unfair orders from unfair superiors. Before Shiro could open his mouth to urge his brother to continue talking, Keith did on his own.

 

“So I punched one of the guards.”

 

Shiro sighed, he was expecting this.

 

“You punched a guard.”

 

“Only to distract them!” Keith looked up, flinching at the look in his older brother’s face. “Only enough for the kid to escape! I didn’t want him to have to go through-”

 

“You know they remember, Keith,” Shiro sighed, “you know they would’ve remembered his face.  _ Specially _ if you did that.”

 

Keith gulped. “He could’ve left the city…”

 

“You and I both know it’s not that easy, Keith.” Shiro’s voice was soft, almost out of place in their current setting, and they both fell quiet for a few moments, nothing but the sound of the crunching torches illuminating the subterranean, dark prison.

 

Keith sighed, knowing Shiro was waiting for him to explain himself further, but dreading breaking the silence that had settled between them.

 

“After I punched the guard,” Keith started slowly, “it escalated quickly. The other guards reacted and pinned me down, yelling something at me about being selfish and ungrateful of our Emperor’s mercy. So I told them our Emperor could go be lashed instead of a small child, if he was o so merciful… Or something along those lines. And- with more insults.”

 

Shiro went stone rigid where he stood. Keith had publicly insulted and threatened the Emperor. Not only that, but while being pinned down by the City Guard. While having terrible reputation because of his bad behaviour. All, right after starting a fight himself. With the City Guard. While punching their face. While getting in the middle of a punishment.

 

Shiro couldn’t save his brother.

 

Shiro couldn’t save him.

 

Keith had no way out of this. Insulting the Emperor publicly was an incredibly high act of treason, not to mention demanding him to be lashed; demanding for the Emperor to get punished and humiliated publicly.

 

His high rank couldn’t get him anywhere, unless he was the Emperor himself, and that was impossible, unimaginable, unthinkable. He couldn’t even say it out loud if he valued his head. Lieutenant meant nothing when faced with this. Honor in battle meant nothing when faced with this.  _ Champion _ meant nothing when faced with this.

 

He couldn’t protect Keith, his only family.

 

“Shiro,” Keith’s voice broke him from his dazed state. Shiro realized he just wasted precious minutes freaking out, when he could spend them enjoying the last he’d see of his younger brother. Shiro opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

 

“Shiro, it’s okay,” Keith looked sad, but almost- almost at peace. “You know this isn’t your fault. Don’t put the blame on yourself.”

 

Shiro frowned because, somehow, it was. His brother looked up to him; they grew up mostly by themselves, orphaned since young, and Shiro had to take care of the both of them as an older brother, doing whatever job he could get, joining the army as soon as he could, and fighting in the arena to gain a name for himself, jumping ranks as fast as possible, training day and night until he was sure his brother could be safe, under a roof and with food never a question, the wonder if they’d have something to eat the following day, gone. Maybe he hadn’t done enough. Maybe he wasn’t there enough. Why would his brother act like he did, otherwise? He knew first hand how bad punishments could be in the capitol. They weren’t always so lucky to be protected by Shiro’s fame.

 

Shiro felt like he failed his brother. He wasn’t there to prevent him from getting in this mess. And now, because of him, Keith would be used as an example of what happens when you disrespect the Emperor, when you break the rules. And he would die.

 

Shiro raised his head, he hadn’t realized when he dropped his gaze, but his fists were white from gripping the bars so tightly, and he barely registered that either. He looked at his brother, who had come as close as he could, held tightly at his ankles by chains and weights. Looked at his hair, long, unkempt and hustled, probably from the fight. Looked at all of his bruises in view; the cut on his cheek, the black eye adorning the right side of his face, the bleeding knuckles. His eyes, purple like their mother, looking at Shiro expectantly. Shiro softened his grip on the bars, a look of determination on his face.

 

“Keith, I’ve failed you.” Keith tried to interrupt as soon as Shiro talked, but Shiro didn’t let him, “I’ve failed you. As an older brother, as the one supposed to look after you. Don’t deny this,” Shiro’s voice let no place for arguments, so Keith closed his mouth and waited for his brother to continue. “I can’t save you. At least, I don’t know how- yet. But I will. I will save you, Keith.

 

“You’re my only family, and if I ever let you die. If i ever saw you walk to that rope, knowing I did nothing to stop it, nothing but weep and be miserable- I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself, even if you do forgive me.”

 

Keith stared at Shiro wide-eyed for a few seconds before looking down at the damp floor of his cell, his eyebrows tight in a frown, thinking hard about something. Shiro knew his brother’s mind was always working, always catching information and looking for answers, and he was glad it didn’t stop even in the darkest of situations. Eventually, Keith seemed to make up his mind, and looked up at Shiro.

 

“Shiro, there’s something I need to tell you.” Keith looked almost pleading, wishing for his brother to understand what and why he was willing to say in those last seconds they had. “I’m not gonna d-”

 

“Your time’s over,” Sendak’s voice resonated in the dungeons, “The ten minutes have passed.”

 

Keith stared daggers at Sendak’s figure at the end of the torch-lit hallway, and Keith knew Sendak was staring right back at him, probably with a smug look on his dumb face, the asshole. Shiro didn’t turn around, though, his eyes stuck on his brother.

 

“Keith?” Shiro insisted.

 

Keith looked back at Shiro, deep into his eyes, and then turned his head, a sigh escaping him.

 

“I’m never gonna blame you, no matter what,” Then, looking back up, “it’s gonna be ok.”

 

Shiro frowned, wanting to talk more, but his time was over, and Shiro would do better getting to work on how to save his brother. Fast.

 

 

* * *

  
  
  


The tavern was filled to the brim, music playing loudly, but laughter and chatter even louder; servers moved like water, dancing an intricate dance, avoiding kicks and punches thrown in the air, slapping away hands trying to steal the jugs of beer, rum, or whatever other alcoholic drink would be appreciated by the resting soldiers and laborers, celebrating another day of hard work coming to its end. A few were kicked out before morning, their drinks getting to their heads, unable of comprehensive talk, or swinging a fist to the right face.

 

Shiro sat in a far table, he was invited by his peers, saying he needed a rest, to forget about what happened, at least for that night. Shiro stared deep into his pint, not ready yet to laugh or talk loudly, probably wouldn’t be ready to do it for a long time if he managed to screw this up further. Sighing, he took another swig, wishing the drink to dull his thoughts for at least a while, quiet his mind so he could sleep and think in a state of mind not hindered by shock.

 

He almost choked on his drink when someone sat next to him heavily, moving the table as his hands placed a jug on it.

 

Coughing, Shiro looked up, immediately recognizing Commander Iverson, a man known for his strategy across the Empire, but for his terrorizing of newbies in the barracks. The man had a soft spot for Shiro, since he had been in under his command more than once, and had always followed his orders efficiently with no complaints. Shiro was once scared of the man, although he tried not to show it. Lucky for him, his upbringing taught him to keep a strong face, which Iverson appreciated, gaining a few points in his favor.

 

“Easy boy, you’ve been distracted,” Iverson said, patting his back to help Shiro out of his coughs, but managing little with Shiro’s armor softening the man’s attempts.

 

“You could say,” Shiro managed after calming down, “I have a lot on my mind.”

 

“No doubt,” Iverson nodded, “it’s truly terrible news what you’ve faced today.”

 

“Yeah…” Shiro said lowly, looking at his hands gripping the jug.

 

Iverson stared at him, before drowning his own drink and raising it to call for a server to bring a new one. While waiting, Shiro didn’t raise his gaze from his hands, deep in thought and reminiscence, trying not to think, but unable to stop his mind from doing so. Only when a dancing hand placed another pint in front of the Commander, breaking him from his thoughts, did Shiro’s eyes flash up, watching as Iverson took a few sips from his refill, and left it at the table before looking up at him.

 

“I’m truly sorry for your loss, Shirogane,” he said, voice low and cheeks flushed. “Your brother truly was a kid I expected to see at the barracks someday, he would’ve made a fine soldier, with how fast he is on his feet and his mind when it comes to battles.” Right. Keith had gotten in a few fights with some of Iverson’s immediate soldiers. Because Iverson had a soft spot for Shiro, it bled a little for Keith too.

 

“Please don’t talk of him as if he’s already dead,” Shiro said, a frown in his face.

 

“He pretty much is,” Iverson stated. “A dead man walking, he’ll be hung in two days, and there’s not much either of us can do.”

 

“We don’t know that yet.”   
  


“Unless you manage to convince the Emperor otherwise, but managing a meeting with him will take you weeks-”

 

“I can’t just let him die-”

 

“You can’t let yourself run dry, Shirogane, he knew the consequences of his actions.”

 

“I’m not running myself dry! He’s my brother-!”

 

“And as I said, he knew well enough what happens when you-”

 

“ _ I’m not letting my brother die if I can do something to avoid it!! _ ”

 

The music stopped, and faces turned to the table where Shiro had stood, jug now on the floor, and chair on its side, pushed by the force of Shiro’s sudden movement. Shiro’s eyes were vicious, but Iverson’s face remained calm, staring up at the man.

 

Soon enough, though the air still remained tense, the music started playing again, and the faces turned back, one by one, the chatter returning, now in a lower level, but no doubt rising slowly.

 

“Lieutenant, I’d recommend you sit down,” Iverson ordered more than offered, and Shiro did so slowly, mind still swirling in anger, but taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

 

Shiro now stared down at his empty hands, clenching and unclenching his fists. Iverson looked at him warily, holding the pint that Shiro didn’t manage to send flying in his anger. Sighing, he took a sip, before lowering it.

 

“I didn’t want to say this, since it’s almost impossible to accomplish and you’ll still need an agreement with the Emperor if you want to make it in time...” Shiro looked up at the commander with a confused expression.

 

“But you said-” He started.

 

“I know what I said, but you also didn’t let me finish, you damn brat,” Iverson grunted. “What I wanted to say before you so gratefully interrupted me,” Shiro flinched at that, “is that managing a meeting with the Emperor would take you weeks- without the right contacts to make it faster.”

 

Shiro sat straighter at that.

 

“Right contacts…?”

 

“As commanders, we don’t report directly to the Emperor, but I’m sure I can arrange to move some threads to get you to speak directly to him. You  _ are _ the Champion after all, the Emperor has watched most of your matches, you were the pride of the arena when you still battled.”

 

Shiro felt a small flame of pride hearing that, despite the memories.

 

“But you won’t be able to change his mind so easily, the Emperor is known for his stubbornness- don’t say that out-loud if you don’t want to end up like your brother.” Shiro flinched.

 

“How am I going to…?” Shiro looked almost insecure now. He was so close, if Iverson managed to get him a view with the Emperor, he could almost feel his brother in his arms again, breathing, not a dead weight. But, change his mind? The mind of an Emperor that would sentence to death those who bad-mouth him?

 

Iverson looked at Shiro’s panicking face before looking down at the table and gathering breath for what he was about to do.

 

“Look kid,” Iverson’s voice was low, and Shiro had to bend over a bit to catch all he had to say, “do you believe in the Gods?”

 

Shiro was taken aback, the Gods?

 

“The Emperor is looking for someone to bring him one. Alive. No matter which one.” Iverson drew his jug near, a dreamy smirk on his face. “He’ll pay enough to live ten lives drowning in luxuries. Probably help you get your brother out of that mess he got into, too.”

 

Iverson took a swig of his drink, and Shiro looked at him as if he’d grown a second and third head. The Commander put his jug down and looked grimly at Shiro’s eyes.

 

“That is, of course, if you’re lucky enough to find one.”

 

Shiro stared at him. A god? Find a god? A god for the Emperor? A  _ god _ ? Gods- Gods haven’t been around for ages. Most people considered them legends, himself included, although Keith had always insisted they were real, they  _ had _ to be real.

 

At that moment, Shiro wanted to believe that too.

 

“A- A god.” Shiro repeated. Iverson nodded. “Gods haven’t been sighted in ages.”

 

“At least not here,” Iverson stated, “there are reasons to believe they are actually real and very much alive. Specifically in the South, heading to Balmera Kingdom”

 

“Reasons?” Shiro snorted hysterically, running a hand through his hair. “Reasons to believe gods- yeah, uh- what-” Shiro gulped, “what reasons?”

 

Iverson took another sip of his drink before leaving it at the table and standing up.

 

“For starters,” he pointed at the scar that crossed his left eye, born at the center of his forehead and ending next to his ear, “it was a god that did this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for reading!!!  
> im gonna go write next chapter right now >:3


	2. Don't close your eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Emperor is a scary man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! chapter 2 is here finally!!  
> so i've talked it out w my beta (so so so so many thanks to him for doing this!!! i owe him my life for being my beta (he's @ punkshirogane at twitter wink wink go check him out i love his art)), and im planning on doing weekly updates for this!! hopefully, they'll be posted every thursday! its gonna be hard not to post every chapter as soon as theyre finished, but that way i will have time to breathe and think things through before every update. i _did_ jump straight into this without second thought and less than half of the story figureed out...  
>  i hope you like this!! it starts a bit description-heavy but ive just been worldbuilding nonstop these past few days, and theres a lot i want to say about the world theyre in, but also dont want to drown you all out with nonstop flows of info... im planning out a map too!! this fic will have a lot of different places and i need to locate myself...

Sendak never liked Shiro to begin with, so it wasn’t a surprise he wasn’t very happy when

tasked with guiding him -or, as he had put it, _babysit_ him- to the hall where the Emperor was waiting for his presence. Sendak walked at a fast pace, grunting at every corner. He kept sending annoyed glares in Shiro’s direction, who looked straight ahead, his face barely containing all of the emotions that were threatening to spill over any second now.

 

Shiro could tell Sendak would much rather be anywhere but near him - unless it was to fight.  He had stood up against him many times in front of his soldiers, and the man did not like that; there was a reason Keith had gotten into the habit of calling him Mister Pissy-pants. Although, to be honest, Keith had started calling most of Shiro’s superiors crude nicknames at this point, sometimes he wondered where he got his ideas for some of them.

 

Turning another corner, Shiro noticed they were finally starting to get somewhere more… _royal_. The Castle of Essence was gigantic, with different sections for different uses, and, being soldiers without a noble title, they had to enter the palace through the service door, in the West Wing, and make their way through most of the castle to get to the Throne Room, placed in the center of the fortress and heavily secured by the Palace Guard. Shiro noticed the amount of soldiers was double what would usually amount on a normal day; weird, since he couldn’t think of any noble or ally residing in the castle at the moment that would require such mobilization.

 

Or maybe, he thought grimly, it was because he was here. The gladiator known as _Champion_ , who requested a meeting with the Emperor to trade for the forgiveness of his traitor brother.

 

Shiro cut that train of thought immediately. He shouldn’t get himself more nervous than he already was with questions he couldn’t find answers to. Instead, he decided to look around the rooms he wasn’t permitted to be in without reason or noble blood -or, he thought, remembering past visitors, riches comparables to the Emperor’s himself. His place was in the battlefield, his guard was in the outskirts of the city, he wasn’t allowed to wander in the castle freely unless he was deemed worthy of the Palace Guard, and with what he was here to do, he doubted it would be soon. Unless, of course, the Emperor agreed and he accomplished his feat.

 

They reached the end of the hall and crossed an archway, leading to a more open space with high ceilings and columns guiding a dark carpet with golden details from one end of the Main Hall to the other. They, of course, weren’t allowed to walk on it, keeping to the stone floors separated from the walkway by the columns in between. Guards were posted at every two column, standing rigid, almost like statues. Shiro looked at these men, they were most likely armed to their teeth, ready to put down whoever seemed a threat to their Emperor.

 

In this case, him.

 

Shiro averted his eyes. _Don’t think of that_.

 

Reaching the end of the hallway, they got to the stairs leading to the Throne Room, the place where the Emperor was awaiting him. The stairs were covered in a carpet the same as the Main Hall, and in the walls next to them fell tapestries narrating battles and victories of the Empire. At the end of them stood an enormous wooden door with intricate designs, showing off legends and heroes of history; on both sides of it, dark purple flags hung, their shield in golden embroidery.

 

Shiro took deep breaths, calming his raging heart and swirling thoughts. He had already crossed looks with the Emperor before, but never in this situation. As Iverson had stated, the Emperor had been a regular in his matches, and he had received congratulations and toasts from his Imperial Majesty in banquets celebrating his victories at the end of the Emperor’s Flame Festival, probably the only days he would be allowed to enter the Banquet House in his life.

 

But now? Now Shiro came to him with a request. A request to forgive someone’s life. To forgive his brother’s life. A traitor’s life. If things went wrong, he could lose his own.

 

He dreaded crossing those doors, but he couldn’t back out now. He didn’t know what Iverson did to manage to give Shiro some time with the Emperor, but he didn’t look too happy that morning when he informed him when and where he had to go to be guided to the Throne Room without being stopped. Besides, Keith’s execution was scheduled in just hours, and he had the Emperor behind those doors waiting to hear what he had to say.

 

Sendak gave an affirmation to the guards at the door, and they let it open as the announcer introduced Shiro to the Emperor and his advisors.

 

“Lieutenant Shirogane makes of his honorable presence,” Shiro really doubted they meant the _honorable_.

 

With Sendak grunting at him to _move_ , Shiro entered the Throne Room.

 

Shiro had been here only once in his life, as every soldier, when starting to rank up. They had to pledge their loyalty to the Emperor on these very same floors. The amazement didn’t change, though.

 

The Throne Room was of exaggerated dimensions for a place whose only purpose was to hold a few chairs. The walls were covered in huge tapestries of even more details and complexity than the ones in the Main Hall, and they went from ceiling to floor, telling more stories than Shiro believed to know. The floor itself wasn’t only of stone, but a huge part of it was covered in carpets of different allied or conquered kingdoms, except the ones under the Throne, which were made of the fur of some of the Emperor’s biggest games. The Throne was placed in an apse, its purpose to make the Emperor heard without much strain, the rest of the wall was decorated with tall windows of stained glass. The Throne itself was a masterpiece, made of wood and metal that blended together as if they were alive and growing, the stiffness diminished by cushions of complex patterns. Beside it, two chairs of lesser intricacy sat on each side.

 

Only two chairs were occupied: the Throne, and the one on its far right.

 

Shiro walked with his back straight, eyes looking ahead, until he was in the middle of the room. There, he kneeled, took off his helmet, and let it on the floor next to him, placing his right hand on his chest and ducking his head.

 

A few silent moments passed. No one was allowed to speak in the Emperor’s presence if he did not explicitly permit it.

 

“Lieutenant Takashi Shirogane,” the Emperor’s voice was grave and strong, enhanced by the apse he found himself in, “The Champion.”

 

Shiro felt cold sweat travel down his spine.

 

“How gracious of you to honor me with your... _visit_.”

 

Shiro could almost feel the sarcasm in his tone.

 

“It is I who is honored to be in your presence, your Imperial Majesty,” Shiro said, still not looking up.

 

The Emperor hummed, and made a few movements Shiro could only hear as rustling of clothing, unable to raise his head.

 

“Stand up, Lieutenant, look at your Emperor.”

 

Shiro did so, willing his legs to stay solid, forcing his mind to quiet down, and his heart to be calm. Raising his head, he looked into the eyes of the Emperor, a dark gold, like the rings adorning his fingers, piercing and bright and dangerous. He did not turn his eyes, even when his gaze felt like it was reaching into the deepest roots of his soul; he did not close them, even when the blood pumping through his veins seemed too dense to flow freely, and his vision started to blur. He couldn’t break the contact, he had to show his will was strong enough; Shiro was very aware of the guards standing right behind him, watching his every move. He knew any screw up could end up in his death, and he would rather have the Emperor’s approval from the very beginning.

 

“Your reputation precedes you, Champion, you’re as stubborn as they say,” the Emperor said, voice low, but overwhelming. Shiro felt a chill run down his spine at the title the Emperor chose to use on him, rather than _Lieutenant_ , the one he’d been carrying for years. “To what do I owe your request of a meeting, Champion?”

 

Shiro could tell he was using that title on him to make him uncomfortable, make him feel trapped, another prey for him to hunt and add to his collection. But Shiro also knew he couldn’t let it get to him, or else it would be over before he could talk.

 

“Your Imperial Majesty, I have come here on a request.”

 

“To free your traitor brother from the gallow, I suppose,” the Emperor said, resting his face on his hand, not batting an eye.

 

“Yes,” Shiro said slowly, and he could already see the Emperor raise his hand and order the soldiers to take him out. _Probably_ , his mind supplied, _get rid of you right here and now_.

 

“But, my Emperor!” he exclaimed, and the Emperor fixed his eyes on him once again, hand frozen mid-signal, as the soldiers behind him, that he could feel tense and ready to jump on him. He separated his arms from his body and lowered his head to show submission, but his gaze still fixed on the Emperor’s, “I’m not just asking for his absolution,” closing his eyes for a second, he breathed, “I offer you an exchange for your compassion.”

 

The Emperor looked interested now, and Shiro counted it as a victory; it was the first emotion other than boredom and superiority that he could see from him.

 

“An exchange?”

 

“I’ve been told,” Shiro spoke slowly to keep his voice from breaking, taking deep breaths between every few words, “that you’re looking for a god.”

 

The Emperor looked at him for a moment and sat straighter, lowering his hand and placing it in the arm of the throne. He studied Shiro for a few seconds before speaking.

 

“I am indeed looking for a god,” he would sound pleased, if not for the look of distrust that had fallen on his face for less than a second before relaxing to his emotionless mask once again.

 

“I promise you,” Shiro breathed, feeling the metaphorical ice he was walking on grow stronger, “in exchange of my brother’s forgiveness, I will find you a god.”

 

The Emperor moved his head to the side without breaking his gaze and squinted his eyes.

 

“And what would make you believe you’d be able to find me a god before the many men I have sent already?”

 

“Because I’m the Champion.”

 

The Emperor stared at him with an unimpressed look, and Shiro felt the ice crack.

 

“That you are, but that’s no new knowledge to me.”

 

Shiro gulped, hoping it wasn’t noticeable.

 

“I’m the Champion,” he repeated, “I won that title when young, and have battled in the arena even before that. I jumped ranks in your army faster than anyone else, and won every battle my men and I have faced,” he stopped and breathed, “my… upbringing, allowed me to meet many people, some of them have studied the gods for years. They are scholars of unparalleled knowledge and they owe me favors. They will aid me on my search.

  
“And,” lowering his voice, as if hoping the Emperor didn’t actually hear him, “I have contacts in the Kingdom of Balmera that will grant me passage to their lands- where the last sightings have been.”

 

The Emperor studied him and rested his jaw on his hand, deep in thought.

 

Shiro breathed heavily, as if he had just ran to the city and back, but trying not to show it. He could feel droplets of sweat running down his temple, and he felt hot all over. He straightened his back even more, ignoring how his short breaths of air weren’t enough for his lungs, and how his stomach seemed to want to push everything back out. The Emperor’s gaze fell hard on his face, and he knew he couldn't show any weakness if he wanted to be taken seriously.

 

Suddenly, the Emperor sighed, sitting back up and rested his hand on his thigh.

 

“It is true you’ve raised ranks with remarkable speed,” he started, slowly, “and I’m… interested in those contacts you speak of,” Shiro felt a cold shiver run down his back; the Emperor’s voice sounded deep and threatening.

 

“Your Imperial Majesty,” Shiro started, cautious, trying to change the Emperor’s line of thought before he was questioned about things he was not able to answer, “I ask of you some time to find a god, in exchange of my brother’s life.” Shiro lowered his head, hoping the Emperor would consider his stance.

 

A few seconds passed, years in Shiro’s mindspace, before he heard a cough from a figure he barely noticed, too busy trying not to break under the Emperor’s trial.

 

“My Emperor,” General Prorok started, from his considerably smaller throne next the Emperor’s own, “if I may.”

 

“Go ahead, General.”

 

Prorok looked at Shiro, who was glancing at him from behind his bangs.

 

“We lose nothing from allowing him to do this,” he said, and Shiro felt the air rush to his lungs. Prorok looked back at the Emperor, “it will show the Empire how merciful and compassionate you are, and how being under your rule is a blessing. Other monarchs would never allow for a traitor to be forgiven,” he glanced at Shiro once again, “I say we allow for it, one more man looking would do no harm, we’d have more possibilities, even, if what he says is true.”

 

The Emperor hummed, looking at Prorok with thoughtful eyes, then back at Shiro.

 

“I will listen to my adviser’s words and I will allow for this exchange.” Shiro opened his eyes wide and raised his head. “But listen carefully, Champion,” he bent forward just a tiny bit, “you have until the following Flame Festival to bring me a god,” he stared deep into Shiro’s eyes, “if not, your brother is decapitated, publicly. His head will hang until it rots, for the whole city to see. I am merciful for those that deserve it, but a traitor is a traitor, and if you don’t accomplish this, or if you disappear without bringing me a god, you will be considered a traitor too, and not one of my soldiers will doubt in killing you, or anyone that looks like you, for that matter.”

 

Shiro gulped.

 

“Do I make myself clear,” he leaned back, “ _Lieutenant_?”

 

Shiro nodded.

 

“Crystal clear, my Emperor.”

 

“Good. Dismissed.”

 

Shiro placed his right hand on his chest and lowered his head.

 

“Vrepit Sa.”

  


* * *

  
  


The central plaza was full, making it harder than usual to move through it. It was no surprise, public executions were a show to behold, and people were anxious to see this one. The rumors were that one of the sentenced was the kid escaping death at every corner; his punishments happened so often, some people were surprised it’d take them this long to finally put him down. Others, that he hadn’t broken and just submitted to his Emperor. One thing was sure, though: no one wanted to miss this.

 

The gallow was ready, soldiers from the City Guard posted around it, stopping the people from getting too close to it. Soon, the prisoners would arrive.

 

Two shadows studied the scene, covered in cloaks and out of the soldiers’ view. They turned a corner, sliding into an alley busy with crates full of merchandise from the market usually held at the Central Plaza. Walking through, they moved like wind, avoiding guards, and mixing with the townspeople that ignored them as they went their way. They moved away from the main streets, turning corners as they were met with the City Guard over and over.

 

They knew something was going to happen.

 

Climbing a roof, the two shadows continued to their destination; the closer they were, the more dangerous it was to stay on ground.

 

The place they were at was less recurred by commoners, being further away from the city center. Instead, it was transitted by soldiers and trainees from the City Guard, unsurprising, being their own quarters.

 

At that moment, though, the guard were mostly busy containing the townspeople, as usual during normal hangings, plus the rest of the soldiers looking for a nonexistent threat somewhere far from their hit point.

 

The City Guard barracks were almost deserted, a few soldiers standing back to guide the prisoners to their fate.

 

The figures waited for the perfect moment, when some soldiers left the barracks to make their rounds, before jumping down the roof and running to the other side of the street, quickly jumping the walls of the fortification before the next guards turned the corner to see them.

 

Hidden behind crates of armor and practice staffs, the shadows moved closer to the biggest building, where the stairs to the underground dungeon found themselves at. They had to wait for the moment the prison guard received orders to open the doors and prepare the prisoners. A few soldiers would go down with him, but in the closed off space, the shadows would have no problem taking them down. Getting out would depend purely on their contact, and the ones they came here for.

 

Before they could make any move, though, two unexpected people appeared in front of the prison guard.

  


* * *

  
  


The door at the end of the hallway opened, and Keith raised his head, squinting his eyes at the little light that fell on the dungeon.

 

A face he despised greeted him.

 

Sendak grunted.

 

“You have a visitor, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: many many thanks to Anime_Queen_88 for giving me pointers in the comments on how shiro should adress the emperor!! <3 thank god they told me or otherwise shiro's head would be rolling in the throne room before he can get to save his brother lmao  
> so, if you read this before the edit, the Emperor, besides that, will now be referred to as "Your Imperial Majesty" or whatever nickname keith has decided to call him
> 
>  
> 
> so! i love titles!! i wanted to say this in the beginning notes but they would kinda.. spoil everything.. so! i know most of you probably figured it out if you put some thought in them, but i like talking about this stuff! so im gonna do it! (im sorry if im annoying lmfao im just rly excited abt this fic, ok)  
> so! this title is "Don't close your eyes", why? well, the answer is simple. you could see it in two ways, one would be shiro's encounter with the emperor, which is: the emperor values strength and will over most things, so shiro maintaining his gaze and not closing or turning his eyes, even in such conditions, is one way to show him his strong will! the other, is shiro's own mindspace- shiro wishes none of this was real, he wants his brother to be safe and not in a dungeon waiting to die, and he wishes he didnt have to go and have a chat with the emperor about this, i mean, who would ever? but he cant, and he cant waste time dreaming about a reality where this didnt happen, because then his brother would die. he has to keep his eyes open and in the real world if he ever wants to save him.  
> pretty awful, huh?  
> im a meanie >:)  
> anyways! if you want, you should check out the titles because i put more thought in them that it looks like lmao, they may hint you in what direction the chapter might take or if it has any second meanings ;););)
> 
> thanks for reading!! <3<3


	3. Hunting season

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A talk, and the hunt begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi!!! i'm sorry, i know i said i'd try to post every thursday, and immediately broke the promise, but this chapter just didn't want to happen :(( it took me three days to write even 1k, it was pure suffering. still, even through all of that, this is the longest chapter so far!! It has arond 4k words, im super proud of myself right now.  
> as always, thank so so so so much to [miguel](https://twitter.com/punkshirogane) for being my beta for this!!! <3  
> and also, thanks again to Anime_Queen_88 for giving me tips on how the emperor should be adressed as!!! <3

Keith glared at Sendak’s figure before he moved to the side, allowing for whoever came to visit him to appear.

 

“Shiro-?“ Keith said, a puzzled look on his face.

 

Shiro stepped ahead, passing Sendak, who didn't move from his spot near the door. He wasn't going to allow them private time like last time.

 

Shiro kneeled in front of his brother.

 

“Keith,” he sounded almost desperate, his face the definition of worry, “you're okay.”

 

“Shiro, what are you-”

 

“Your brother here made a deal with our Imperial Majesty,” Sendak interrupted, never one for sentimentalism, “your sentence is on hold. For now.”

 

Keith glared at Sendak before lowering his eyes to his brother’s face, frowning.

 

“Shiro, what does he mean a deal with the Emperor?” Keith’s voice almost broke, but he coughed to cover it.

 

Shiro looked almost embarrassed of being called out by Sendak and not being able to explain himself to his brother first. 

 

“I just came back from a meeting with His Imperial Majesty,” he licked his lips, dry from running to the prison before his brother was taken, “He has allowed some time before your hanging.”

 

“Allowed?” Keith said, standing up, “What do you mean allowed? His Imperial Pa-Majesty doesn't just allow time for  _ traitors _ .”

 

Shiro winced at Keith’s tone, but still didn't change his own, calm and calculated.

 

“We have come to an agreement, and he has accepted to forgiving your life if in exchange I fulfill a favour for him,” Keith opened his mouth, but Shiro raised a hand, asking for more seconds of silence, “tomorrow morning, I’ll be leaving the capital to search and bring him a god.”

 

Sendak snorted behind him, but said nothing. Keith just stared dumbfoundedly at his brother.

 

“Wh- A  _ god _ ?” He repeated, “You?”

 

Shiro nodded.

 

_ “You _ are going to go find a  _ god _ for the Emperor.”

 

Shiro nodded again.

 

Keith stared at him, the corner of his mouth twitching as if his brother would start laughing at any second, and he would laugh with him. But Shiro stayed serious, causing Keith to frown.

 

“Shiro, you don't believe in gods.”

 

Shiro looked down.

 

“Maybe it's time for me to start doing so.”

 

“Shiro-”

 

“If the gods don't exist, Keith,” he looked up at him, right into his eyes, “if they don't exist, then you die.”

 

Keith averted his eyes.

 

“And so do I.”

 

Keith looked up so fast he gave himself whiplash. Shiro was still looking at him, and Keith flinched. He knew what his brother meant, but-

 

“What do you mean, you too?”

 

Shiro breathed a sigh and changed his posture, sitting back.

 

“If I don't get a god in time for His Imperial Majesty, I will be considered a traitor too,” Shiro joined his hands in front of him, “and we will both be examples of what happens when you exploit the Emperor’s kindness.”

 

“Ki- _ kindness?! _ ” Keith exclaimed, and Shiro glared at him, reminding him that Sendak was still listening. Keith coughed, clenching his fists and staring at his brother’s shoulder, not willing to look at his face.

 

He breathed for a few seconds.

 

“How much time?” he grunted.

 

Shiro smiled at him, sad and understanding.

 

“The Flame’s Festival.”

 

Keith looked into his brother’s eyes with a horrified expression.

 

“Shiro, that's not even a full cycle away.”

 

“I know, that's why I’m leaving tomorrow.”

 

“Tomorrow? The snow storms are starting inland soon- It’s dangerous!” Keith’s chains at his feet rattled when he moved forward.

 

“There is no other option, Keith.”

 

Keith sat down. He placed his hands on the floor at either side of him and looked at the dirty stone under him. Shiro could see he was trying to calm down, his eyes moving one way to the other in fast motions.

 

“I’m sorry, Shiro,” he said, quiet.

 

Shiro gave him a sad smile.

 

“It’s not your fault, Keith.”

 

“It’s not yours either.”

 

Shiro didn't have an answer to that, and he could hear the unsaid words in the air. 

 

_ It’s the Empire’s fault _ .

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


When Shiro got to the house he shared with his brother, the first thing he did was clear the table they had in the main room, where just days ago they ate dinner. As soon as it was free of papers and books and forgotten cups, Shiro started placing things on it again, to ready for his trip. Clothes, quick camp utensils and weapons of easy carry; a bow, a bastard sword, a few daggers. All were weapons his brother used, mostly; Shiro’s longsword being one kept in the barracks as it was a representation of his loyalty to the Empire, and a sign of his rank and experience -not one he wanted with him if he had to ride south to the Balmera Kingdom.

 

Shiro stopped, following the edge of the sword with his eyes and frowning.

 

The last few days were still a blur for him, everything had changed too fast. It had taken them so long to get this far, to finally manage to have a house, to be able to take care of themselves. Keith and him were alone most of their lives, the smiles and laughter of their parents had faded from memory with time, and they had to learn to survive trusting no one but each other. They had no one else, after all.

 

And then…

 

Shiro left the sword on the table. He had to focus.

 

He almost messed up with the Emperor that day, saying too much.

 

He grabbed a dagger and went up the wooden stairs that led to their bedrooms. Shiro’s own wasn’t much for show, small and just fancying a bed and a closet with his few belongings. Keith’s, however, also held a small table, messy with papers and ink, and a chest where he held his most valued belongings. For example: letters.

 

Shiro knew that one of his brother’s many interests was the gods. The gods were thin ice for someone with as much background as his brother, since the Empire did not fancy them, and any worship of them was forbidden, punishable by death, in many cases. But if there was a thing the Emperor was obsessed with, was, as ironic as it sounded, the gods. So His Imperial Majesty allowed the research of them, although scholars were usually under heavy watch. The gods were treated as mere legends, stories to explain the impossible, and many believed they were, Shiro included.

 

Apparently, not anymore.

 

His brother always insisted the gods were real, that Shiro just didn’t pay enough attention, that if he just  _ listened _ to what he had to say, he’d understand what he meant. Shiro always thought that his brother was just using those legends as a way to escape their reality, a means to distract himself, a hope that all that happened to them was for a reason.

 

Shiro kneeled in front of his brother’s chest. He secretly wished his brother would forgive him for what he did.

 

Raising the dagger, he broke the lock with it’s haft in one clean hit.

  
  
  
  
  
  


The trees grew closer together the deeper he got in the forest, making it impossible to see far ahead. The terrain was uncertain, as it was expected of the edge of the mountain. The last snows were melting, rains beginning to occur more often, and the floor, wet and slippery, made advancing slow and difficult. Still, the birds were singing, and he could hear life all around him; small animals were starting to wake up from their prolonged slumber, and bigger ones starting their hunt.

 

Shiro had to leave his horse behind to travel the troublesome terrain, the last town he was in told him of a legend in the farthest parts of the woods, closer to the mountain’s feet, and progress was almost impossible with a mount like Sirius. He deserved the break, anyways, they’d been on the move with little rest since the beginning of the snow storms.

 

Shiro had to walk slowly through the forest, trying not to trip on loose roots and failing miserably almost constantly. He was not comfortable leaving most of his strong armour at the inn, he felt unprepared with only his bow and a few daggers, and the gambeson almost too light for his taste. At least, he thought when the cold wind blew on his face and shaking the new leaves, his cloak would be of some use.

 

_ Or not _ , he thought again, when it got stuck in a branch, making him trip and fall face first in the mud.

 

Groaning, he sat up. He had walked for hours in the forest, without even hearing from the god the townspeople had told him about.

 

_ “When the hunting season starts, he guides our arrows and hides our steps,” _ a lady that lived off game had told him,  _ “and if you get lost in the forest, he shows you the way to your village.” _ She had then proceeded to introduce him to his son, who had gotten lost in the woods when just a small child. The young man had described to him, with shining eyes, the soft voice and loud laughter of the god that had calmed him down enough to stop crying and take him safely back to his family.

 

Shiro almost didn’t believe him, thinking that it could’ve been another hunter walking those woods and the child-like wonder had made him imagine most of the details. He forced himself to believe, though. He had to.

 

He sat on a fallen tree, figuring that, if he wanted to continue with enough strength, he better have something to eat. He could see a river right past the bushes next to him. The townspeople had told him the place he had to make his way to was surrounded by many streams that went down the mountain, since the melting of snow made the main rivers overflow and create new ones. It made the terrain much more unstable, but the locals liked to romanticize it as the god waking up and bringing life and movement to the world.

 

Eating his dried meat and drowning his canteen, Shiro took a moment to breathe and admire his surroundings, he hadn’t really done so since he left the capital of the Empire.

 

The sun passed softly through the baby green of the leaves. Surely soon enough they’d be grown so dense, the light would have more trouble making its way through. Shiro could hear birds singing, and sometimes jump from one branch to the other. And, if he closed his eyes, he could hear the earth creatures move around the forest ground.

 

Breathing deeply, Shiro opened his eyes slowly and let his hands fall on each side of him, touching the moss that started growing on the low. At his feet, the grass was starting to grow, reborn once again after the strong storms that scourged the land of life and sound. Shiro sighted an ant trail close to him, starting to gather supplies once again, taking advantage of the baby leaves starting to grow on some of the trees and the brushes. Shiro picked one of the ants, watching it run on his hand and pass from finger to finger, before softly laying it on the ground once again. But the ant started running around, breaking the peace for some of its fellows, and Shiro felt guilty.

 

He rummaged through his bag, maybe he still had grapes?

 

When he came up empty handed, he realized the aura in the forest had changed. Shiro couldn’t hear the birds sing anymore, and the woods seemed almost too quiet. Even the river seemed to have quieted down. He heard the rattle of wings over his head, getting away as fast as possible.

 

He heard a growl.

 

Shiro raised his head from his bag slowly. In between the leaves from a bush he could see them, a pair of hungry eyes staring at him.

 

The wolf growled again, and Shiro could see its sharp fangs.

 

Breathing deeply, Shiro moved his hand to the long dagger hidden in his back, slowly. He could see the wolf’s eyes follow his every move. Maybe he had inadvertently gotten in their territory, and there were most likely more wolfs around, its pack ready to jump on him at any moment.

 

Shiro stood up, gathering as much as he could, making a slow retreat backwards. The wolf kept staring at him, sending warning growls. With his dagger in hand, Shiro tried to get away, never turning his back to the animal.

 

The weird terrain, however, was already hard enough to walk on looking forwards, and Shiro’s feet caught in a root, sending him stumbling backwards, and causing the wolf to send a warning snarl at him, getting out of the bush completely and moving towards him.

 

Shiro took a deep breath and stood up quickly, raising his arms and screaming at the wolf, trying to look intimidating. The animal snarled back at him, lowering its ears and head in a defensive stance. Shiro tried to control his fear, the animal was huge, reaching his hips and not even standing straight to do so. If the rest of the pack was around here, he was a dead man.

 

Giving a few steps back, Shiro waved his cloak to try to make himself bigger, like he remembered someone telling him to do if he ever found himself in an encounter with these animals. He could hear the stream closer with each step he took, and he’d have to go across it if he wanted to get away from the wolf fast. Hopefully, he wouldn’t trip on it and cause another reaction from the animal.

 

He yelled again when the wolf gave another bark and feint to jump at him, waving the cloak and taking a few more steps back without taking off his eyes from the wolf. His left hand touched a tree, and he fixed his steps a little to not end up cornered against one. His foot stepped on a root still moist from the defrosting and the rains, and he stumbled. The animal growled again, and this time, it was accompanied by a few more.

 

Shiro gulped.

 

Behind the first wolf appeared two more, and to his right, Shiro could hear steps.

 

The pack had caught up.

 

Shiro tried to control his breathing. He could feel his mind getting fuzzy with stress, the air apparently not reaching his lungs. His eyes moved frantically from one wolf to the other, and the animals started growling louder when they noticed his stress, taking more steps towards him.

 

Shiro’s feet felt cold, and he registered in the back of his mind that he had reached the stream. But the animals were not backing down. He was easy prey now.

 

The first wolf, which he figured was the alpha, since its size was bigger than the rest, snarled at him and jumped. Shiro’s eyes went wide before his instincts, worked to his core since just a kid, made him jump to the right. The wolf fell on the stream, but regained its footing soon enough and turned to growl at Shiro.

 

Shiro’s mind fell on a daze, old learnings taking the wheel of his movements. He registered the rest of the wolves outside of the stream, some moving to the other side behind the alpha, probably trying to corner him. He counted around three wolves besides the huge one in front of him, and, weirdly enough, none on his back.

 

The water was making the rocks under his feet slippery, and Shiro feared that at any movement he would fall, and most likely die under these animal’s fangs. He had to get out of the stream.

 

Taking slow steps to his left, he started to feel the water grow deeper, getting most of his shin underwater, and close to reaching his cloak. The water was fast and cold, as he expected for the season, and he had to measure every step not to trip with the constantly changing ground. It was harder considering he couldn’t take his eyes off the wolf in front of him.

 

Shiro waved his cloak and focused on the alpha. If he was able to take him down, the most possible case was that the rest would leave him alone. Holding his dagger tightly, Shiro looked for any sign of the animal jumping at him. The wolf just growled and moved with him, probably figuring Shiro’s plan of getting out of the water.

 

Shiro heard a snarl on his left, and a quick glance showed him that there was another wolf waiting for him at the other side of the stream where he was headed.

 

_ Well, shit. _

 

Shiro took a step back. His chance of escape were blown off as soon as he stepped in the water, weren’t they.

 

_ Unless… _

 

Shiro risked a glance at his back, the place where he heard was no wolf waiting for him.

 

A goddamn cliff.

 

_ Of course. _

 

Another bark made him look at the wolves once again, and Shiro only had a second before jumping to his left when the alpha attacked him. The other wolf was waiting for him though, and Shiro was immediately tackled by it, falling backwards on the stream, the dagger slipping from his hands.

 

The water engulfed his head, and Shiro felt it entering his nose when his instincts made him gulp for the air that escaped him because of the hit. He opened his eyes and saw the wolf over him, snarling, its mouth too close to his face, and Shiro immediately kicked it back with as much force as he could. The wolf yelped and moved his weight enough for Shiro to get out of the water.

 

He didn’t get any rest, though. As soon as his head breached the surface, the alpha jumped over him, mouth open to bite. Shiro covered his arm with his cloak, hoping that, together with his gambeson, it would be enough not to reach his skin. He had, after all, deflected sword attacks with them.

 

The cloth did protect him enough to not open skin, but the force of the wolf’s jaw was enough to crush bones. Luckily, Shiro managed to kick it before it could happen, but the fangs managed to break the cloth with the push, and leave a nasty scratch on his forearm.

 

Shiro had barely stood up when another wolf appeared from behind the bushes of the side of the stream he came from, and he jumped back, the water and the moving stones under his feet making his movements slow and difficult. He didn’t want to fall again.

 

The wolf that had pushed him underwater made itself known once again with a snarl, now even more lively and furious than before. Shiro walked backwards, the only thing separating him from dry land now was the stream, and he better get out of it as soon as possible. The water started to become low, and Shiro only hoped soon he’d get out of it. His clothes were heavy and torn, and the wolves kept making advances at him, now even angrier after receiving hits from him.

 

Shiro almost tripped again, and the wolves walked towards him, Shiro lowered his hand and reached for the dagger hidden in his boot. The alpha growled at him, trotting faster and rounding to his left. He knew they were trying to corner him against the cliff once again, so he tried to hurry his steps.

 

When he finally felt steady ground under his feet, he took a deep breath, and lowered his stance and opened his arms, waving his cloak, trying to look threatening again.

 

He flinched at the pull of his forearm, but tried not to show it, although the animals could probably smell he was hurt.

 

To his right, the two wolves got closer to him, circling around and blocking his escape route. In front of him, the alpha tried pushing him more and more to the cliff, so Shiro moved further to his left, until a noise made him realize that he had forgotten of the fourth wolf he had counted at first. Glancing to his left, Shiro saw the animal appear with a low stance, growling at him. It was smaller than the rest, but it could still easily reach his hips in a straight position.

 

Shiro felt his breaths turn shorter, as his only escape route was cut out. Taking a step back, Shiro looked around him, glancing from one wolf to the other. The trees where he stood were smaller, and further in between, unlike the ones just a few meters from him. Probably because he was reaching the border of the cliff, or because the spring stream caused the few trees that managed to grow peel off from the loose, wet ground. He couldn’t tell, and he most definitely shouldn’t be focusing on that information at the moment, seeing as the alpha managed to take a few more steps towards him, growling becoming louder and louder.

 

Shiro’s grip on his dagger tightened. He lowered his stance again, trying to breathe deeply and make the air reach his brain. He had to think logically, which part of the wolf would be better to hit? A lethal one, as to not anger them more, but scare them and make them run off. He had to wait for the alpha to jump at him, though.

 

The alpha snarled at him, preparing to jump, just as Shiro squinted his eyes and focused on where the wolf’s stomach would be.

 

However, the wolf didn’t jump.

 

The animal stopped growling and raised its head. Shiro saw its ears move, as if listening, and around him, he saw the rest of the animals do the same.

 

The alpha raised its nose and nodded at something behind the trees, whining and reminding Shiro of a dog Keith and him used to feed behind their house, whenever they could spare a bite.

 

Shiro frowned at the wolf, before raising his eyes and squinting at whatever was behind the foliage.

 

Shiro almost drops his dagger when a young man appeared from behind the bushes, smiling brightly at the animals. His tan body was almost completely on display, a soft, creamy cloth falling from his waist, attached to a belt almost entirely made of gold, shining with the sunlight. His shins were covered with golden greaves, as his forearms, protected by golden vambraces. On his shoulders fell two pauldrons of the shape of sleeping lions, of extensive detail, almost looking alive, if not for the golden shimmering of the metal in the light, held together by something akin to leather. A dark cape fell from them, reaching down to his hip. He went barefoot.

 

The wolves wagged their tails when the man appeared, getting close to him and pushing his hands to get pats. They rumbled at whined at him, and Shiro would almost consider it a sweet picture, if not for almost being torn to shreds by these same animals just seconds ago. It was funny on its own way, now that the alpha stood tall, Shiro could see it reached around his waist, even higher on the boy in front of him.

 

The man laughed when one of the wolves licked his hand, not even caring for the fangs so close to his skin. His short brown hair moved with the shaking of his shoulders, shining in the light, and almost granting him a halo-like aura.

 

Shiro took a step back, pushing a rock under his foot and making it stumble down the cliff. The noise brought the attention of one of the wolves, that glanced at him, no longer interested in having him as a meal. The young man followed the wolf’s gaze and looked up, his eyes meeting Shiro’s.

 

Shiro’s breath caught. The young man’s eyes were a deep blue, shining like the sea near the capital on a calm day. He could almost hear the seagulls that woke him up every morning when he was younger and working at the docks.

 

The young man smiled at him and Shiro took a step back, but his feet found nothing underneath them, and Shiro fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look who appeared!!! i was so so so excited for this part to happen!!  
> i hope that time jump wasn't too hard to catch? i tried to throw hints to it without writing "a few months later..."  
> special thanks to wiki how for making this happen, [look at this very serious edit i did](https://sta.sh/01y1ao0zmkij)
> 
> please take everything i wrote with a grain of salt.. i think wolves arent really that agressive towards human if you dont go and literally punch them, but i needed them to be ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> and also.. im not sure if wiki how has all the answers but...


	4. White dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beggining of the search.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaahhhhhh!! hello!!! im so so sorry its been _so_ long!!  
>  to put it shortly, college and personal matters made finishing and uploading this chapter hard,,  
> this is unbeta'd bc my beta also has a bunch of stuff to do :') but i hope there aren't too many mistakes!!  
> thank you all so much waiting so patiently, oh my god, im sorry
> 
> PS! just to clarify! this chapter takes place months earlier from shiro meeting our "mysterious" blue-eyed man, right after leaving the capital,, i tried to show it with the season changes but i might have made it more confusing lmao o(-( ,, i'll try to be more clear in the future!!!

The morning was cold. Mist surrounded the scenery, and a thin layer of frost covered the grass. Shiro breathed out, seeing the white fog twirl in the cold air until it disappeared. Sirius moved slowly under him, and Shiro unconsciously pat the horse from time to time.

 

The day was quiet, the animals starting to hide for their prolonged sleep, already feeling the snow storms that would start soon enough. He could hear a few birds singing, early risers like him. He had been on the move since before the sun came out, trying to get to his destination as soon as possible to start his search. Shiro looked at the letter in his hand, the address alien to his eyes, but most likely his only hope to save his brother.

 

Shiro knew Keith talked to someone through letters, and his brother had let it escape in one conversation that they usually talked about gods, and the findings each of them had made on the subject. Not many used letters, since the paper and the delivery were expensive, but with Shiro’s rank, they could afford it, and Keith didn’t take interest in many things for Shiro to pass up the opportunity to let him have something to enjoy.

 

He _might_ be an overcompensating brother.

 

A breeze made him finally hide the paper between the folds of his clothing, and Shiro decided to hurry Sirius, the horse finally having warmed up. The sun was starting to rise higher in the sky, and he had a few more hours until the next stop before starting again. It would be a long trip, and he wanted to cover the most of it before he was inland enough for the storms to reach him.

 

* * *

 

 

Shiro never thought the storms would actually be this bad.

 

Lucky for him, he found a village before it got too bad, but each second he spent sitting on the floor of the barn they had let him use after some begging –and a bit of gold- was pure torture. The woman of the house had even made one of her children bring him a warm stew that made Shiro’s mouth water. He had been living off dry meat and hard bread for days straight, and he greatly appreciated the change in taste, especially with the soup running down his throat, warming up his cold, sore bones and muscles.

 

But Shiro still couldn't calm down. The most he had been in inland was in spring, and he was barely a child at that time, so he had no idea how long the storm could last, he hoped it wasn’t too long. He could probably reach his destination with two or three more days of travel, he was so close.  


 

* * *

 

 

_A warm smile. Bright eyes looking at him and hard-working hands holding his face. The sun slides through the leaves, the tree he fell from towering high over him. His knee and his hands hurt._

 

_“It's okay, Takashi, don't cry.”_

 

His eyes open.

 

Over him there are no branches and leaves, just the barn he's been stuck in for two days now. Luckily, the lady of the place had told him it seemed like it was going to stop for a few days, so he'd better try make progress as soon as it stopped, since, after that, the stronger storms would arrive, and then he'd be stuck for weeks.

 

He passed a hand through his eyes, prying the last remnants of the dream away from his face.

 

Shiro could still remember his parents, at least partly. His mother’s kisses, his father’s hugs; they were things that he still reminisced about, sometimes even visited by them in dreams.

 

During his hardest years, though, when younger and still jumping from work to work to keep himself and Keith with enough food to survive another night, he couldn't spare to think of them. Keith was angry with him those years, he never forgave the Empire for taking their parents away, and he was upset Shiro seemed to have done just that. Only when he finally slept on a bed he could call his own did he mourn them, but the tears had been dried long ago.

 

He’d like to think they were proud of what he did. Standing up for himself and his brother, working hard and nonstop, facing his reality head-on.

 

Sighing, Shiro sat up. It seemed as if all of his work had been for nothing, he hadn't been there for his brother enough, too busy with the works he could manage to beg for. Keith was probably alone in his mourning, and he was just a child, angry at the world for taking away his dearest people.

 

Keith had been there for him when he broke down after stepping into their own house, he held him up and made him sit down and take deep breaths.

 

Shiro hadn't.

 

Shiro let his hands fall on his lap and felt something constrict in his chest. Sirius neighed at him from his spot on the barn, sensing his distress, so Shiro decided it was time to stop pouting and erasing that line of thought; he had to have a one-way mind if he wanted to get his task done quickly and correctly.

 

Getting up, he noticed the quiet from outside, and, quickly grabbing his cloak and boats to brace from the cold, he made way for the barn’s door, Sirius following his steps with curious eyes.

 

Outside, the world seemed to have stopped. The storm had finally died out, leaving a white mantle over the scenery. A few meters away, stood the main house of the farm, the smoke from the chimney that raised to the sky, never-ending, as first sign that there were living people in it, since it was almost completely covered in white. A breeze flew by, shaking the few leaves that still hadn’t somehow dropped from its trees, and messing up his hair. Suddenly, as if a broken spell, Shiro could hear the few signs of life from the world; a shy song from the few birds still surviving in the cold, the farm animals in the next building starting to make a fuss, a cat meowing in the distance. A door opening.

 

Shiro saw a figure appear from inside the house, probably having noticed his waking. The person, bundled up in coats and furs, most likely one of the lady’s children, but indistinguishable from the distance and the amount of clothing, waved him over.

 

Hugging his cloak further, Shiro ventured outside, closing the door behind him to keep Sirius somewhat protected from the cold. The snow almost reached his knees, and getting to the house took a bit of work, unused to walking in those conditions.

 

He would ask for directions and advice, and resume travel as soon as possible, even if that meant, as the lady explained, walking ahead of his horse to make progress easier for the poor animal.

 

He wanted to get a move before the stronger storms resumed, and then, not even walking ahead of Sirius would make them progress. Or leave them alive, that is.

 

* * *

 

They almost didn’t make it.

 

_Almost._

 

Around four days later, the snow had melted to a point where riding Sirius presented no trouble for the animal, but the storms were approaching, and Shiro could already see the threatening clouds in the horizon, following quickly. Shiro saw no other answer but to make Sirius gallop, since there were no farms or towns in between him and his destination, they could only hope to make it in time to the tree lines.

 

Sirius’ breaths turned white, and Shiro could tell the animal was getting exhausted from galloping in such conditions, but the horse also seemed to be able to tell the danger they were in, since he showed no signs of dropping speed. Shiro felt pride for that, his horse was highly smart, and his peers often praised him on how well-trained he was.

 

Shiro looked behind them. The clouds seemed to be getting bigger and bigger with each glance. Taking a deep breath, Shiro turned back, staring straight ahead at the lines of trees that looked to not have changed at all in comparison.

 

“Good boy, you can do this, Sirius,” Shiro murmured, petting the animal’s neck, “just a bit more.” He knew his horse couldn’t understand his words, but he was mostly trying to convince himself.

 

Sirius moved quickly behind him, with labored breaths and legs moving as quick as possible in the high snow. If they just made it to the tree line, the forest would mostly protect them from the storm.

 

Kerberos forest, one of the biggest inside the Empire, the first being to the Northeast, and the second to the South, shared with the Balmera Kingdom. Kerberos forest was small in comparison to both of them, but was the home for the Kerberos Town, the place where his brother’s friend found themselves at.

 

Shiro had only been to Kerberos two times before. He remembered the gigantic trees that rose proudly from the ground, with paths made around them as to not break the careful structure Mother Nature had laid for them. The trees provided a natural protection from the heavy storms that clashed in the winter to the town, even though Shiro had never been one to personally witness it. Until now.

 

He pushed Sirius a bit further when he noticed something white starting to fall from the sky, looking back, he could see the storm almost over them. The far behind now completely white, landmarks he had located no longer visible in the mess of snow and rain and wind.

 

The forest was finally getting closer, and that was a relief, but Shiro could feel it disappearing at any moment. The wind was getting stronger, almost pushing him off Sirius, and causing him to slightly change the horse’s direction in the push. He cursed under his breath and insisted on Sirius’ speed, the poor animal doing its best to keep its legs moving to not get caught up in the storm.

 

Shiro patted the horse’s neck once again, mumbling praise and hurries. They were so close.

 

A sudden gust of wind threw his cloak on his face, and on the struggle to get it out, he wasn’t ready when another pushed him off, not enough to get him off Sirius, but enough to startle the animal, who reared and threw Shiro off the ground.

 

He sinked in the snow, immediately feeling in covering him again. The air rushed from his lungs, and it took him a few seconds to get up and try to calm Sirius, who was still shocked from the situation. Shiro could barely see the trees with the storm now surrounding them, and since Sirius wasn’t calming down, he decided the next best course was to guide the animal himself, since there was no way it was letting him ride it in that state.

 

Hoping to show Sirius that he had everything in control -even when he didn’t-, Shiro tried to slow his breathing, shushing calming words to the animal, and petting its snout. Eventually, the animal focused on him, and Shiro smiled brightly, holding the halter and walking backwards to get it to follow him. The wind was hard on him, making him almost slip more than once, but Shiro didn’t want to chance Sirius getting spooked and running off into the storm.

 

After a few minutes, when the horse had calmed enough, Shiro decided to turn back again. If he squinted enough, he could see the trees. They weren’t that far, and he breathed deeply and thanked the heavens for that.

 

The advance was slow, since he was on foot, and he didn’t want to force Sirius to gallop with him once again so soon after his freak-out. Shiro hugged his cloak, he had given up on wearing the hood with the wind blowing it off his head constantly. He focused solely on his advance, trying to waste as little time as possible to get to the trees, moving his tired legs with determination, making a path for the horse.

 

Soon enough, the trees started growing bigger, and their tops started to cover their heads. Sirius seemed calmer now with something other than snow around them, but the wind still whipped at them, and the cold was starting to seep through Shiro’s clothes, so they kept moving. Shiro could remember a hut in the beginnings of the forest. It was built there because the travel from the border of the woods to the town took almost a day on its own.

 

When they reached the hut, Shiro led Sirius to the stables on the side. It was prepared to receive guests every few weeks, so the stable had enough hay and water for the night.

 

The cabin was supposed to be filled with firewood, water and food, a treat from the locals for the travelers that took refuge in it. Shiro was glad they did; his rations were already running short.

 

After hanging his clothes near the fire he put and getting his rations in, Shiro lied down, exhausted, on one of the beds with furs that offered the refuge. He fell asleep immediately, his body grateful for the rest he finally allowed himself.

 

He would surely need it the next day.

 

* * *

 

The town of Kerberos was a sight to be seen. It wasn’t big, since most people weren't willing to live in a place so separated from the world, but the people that did, exceeded at it.

 

Most houses used the very trees that protected them as supports or whole walls, a few ones even with trees even growing through the roofs. The weakest points in the buildings were supported by stone and metal, and most doors had carvings of incredible intricacy in them. Not surprising; Kerberos town was a town of fine carpenters, after all. Shiro could only dream of having such a thing in his own house, though. Unless he got the god, that is.

 

Which is why he found himself, in that very same moment, at the doors of the only pub in the town. He had been there before… He hoped they didn't recognize him -he was supposedly banned, but didn't remember much of that night.

 

Probably hit someone important in the face. His friends weren't really helpful in the matter.

 

Shiro walked in, and no one stopped him through his walk to the bar, so he hoped they had forgotten about him. It _had_ been four years, after all.

 

The bartender threw one look at him, and immediately smirked.

 

_Well, shit._

 

“My, my, look who we have here,” the man left a glass on the table and lied forward on his elbows. “If it isn't Mister _Anything Can Be A Sword_ in person himself!”

 

Shiro flinched, “I don't know what you're talking about,” he said hushedly, trying to get the barman to lower his voice.

 

“Hey, hey! Don’t worry! The boss-man isn't around here for a while, visiting his son and daughter-in-law. With these storms, I doubt he’ll be here anytime soon.”

 

“And he left you in charge?”

 

“What, like you doubt me?” he snorted, “yeah, I’m taking care of the place with Nyma for the time being.”

 

Shiro looked at where he pointed, to a tall woman walking through the tables. It had taken him almost the whole day to get to the town, so the bar was already filling up with customers just free of work. The place was loud, and Shiro looked through the faces, trying to recognize them from his past visits.

 

He still didn't remember much, though.

 

“So, what brings you around here? Hopefully not to wreck chaos again, wouldn't-cha? We still have to fix some of the walls,” the barman’s voice made him turn his head back. He was looking at him with a smirk and raised eyebrows. Shiro didn’t know if he was glad he didn't remember or not.

 

“I’m- looking for someone,” Shiro started, and looked around and discreetly as possible, checking no one was listening to what he was saying, and took out his brother’s letter.

 

The barman leaned in, interested.

 

“I don't know if it's their real name, but,” he opened and slid the paper on the table, pointing at the end, “I need to find this person.”

 

The man looked at the letter, and then back at Shiro with a serious expression, before looking down again with a frown, hand on his chin, thinking.

 

Shiro looked at him, and then back around them. At some point, the barman took a deep breath and raised his head.

 

“Nyma!” he called, “I need your help here!”

 

Shiro stared at the man with disbelief, but he glanced back at him with a calming smile.

 

“I might be the barman, but my memory sucks,” he said, pointing at his head, “Nyma knows most people around here.”

 

As if on cue, the waitress appeared next to Shiro, squinting at him before gasping.

 

“You’re the guy from years ago!” she exclaimed, and Shiro winced, “Gods, it took us days to clean the whole place from that mess, I think some tables still have your footprints.”

 

“I don't really remember…” He muttered, blushing.

 

“Oh, I wouldn't be surprised,” she laughed, “If the drinks didn't do it, the hit probably did.” _The hit?-_ Smiling, she looked back at her workmate, “did you call me, Rolo?”

 

“Yeah, our friend here needs to find someone,” Rolo said, pushing the letters towards her. Nyma looked down at it, squinting at the words before humming.

 

“Yeah, I know them,” she nodded, and looked back at Shiro, directly into his eyes, “Why do you need them for, anyways? I doubt a knight from the Guard has anything to do with a mere civilian our humble little town.”

 

“They're… friends with my little brother,” he said, looking at his hands curled on the table.

 

“And why didn't you brother come here himself, then?” Rolo said, eyes and voice low.

 

Shiro took a deep breath, forcing his hands to stay relaxed.

 

“He’s-” he closed his eyes, and looked at Rolo, “he’s sick.”

 

Nyma and Rolo looked at each other, having a quiet conversation. Neither of them seemed to believe him, but he hoped they wouldn't question him further. Eventually, Nyma sighed.

 

“Tell you what,” she started, “you wait here, with Rolo, I’ll go look for them, let them be the judge of whether they’d receive you or not.”

 

“They’re very wary of whom to speak to,” Rolo nodded, “wouldn't like you appearing at their doorstep unannounced.”

 

“Thanks,” Shiro breathed, relieved.

 

“Sure thing, Mister _It’s Just A Little Blood_ ,” Rolo laughed, pushing himself off the bar and grabbing the nearest bottle, “let me pour you a drink and just sit tight, our little pal is hard to get to even when you know them.”

 

Shiro did as told, frowning at the new, weirdly long nickname. _Just what had he done four years ago?_

 

* * *

 

The door opened for the tenth time that night, and Shiro turned around to look at the newcomer, Rolo chuckling on the other side of the bar.

 

“Calm down,” he said, serving a woman that already had a light blush on her face, “they’ll show up, they're too curious not to do so.”

 

Shiro looked at his glass, it was his second one, but he didn't want to lose himself anytime soon.

 

“I’m just nervous,” he sighed, “my brother never tells me much of his secret friend.”

 

Rolo crooked a brow, about to say something, when he looked behind Shiro and smirked.

 

“Took you long enough,” he snorted.

 

Shiro opened his eyes wide and turned around quickly, surprising himself having to look down to the smaller-than-expected person i front of him. Amber eyes looked right at him with a curious frown and messy brown hair.

 

“You-” Shiro gulped, staring at the _kid_ , “you’re Gunderson?”

 

The kid looked him up and down, their clever eyes studying his form, noticing the scar running through his nose, and the messy hair and clothes dirty from travel. They smirked.

 

“The one and only.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohhh new characters!! >:D  
> im sorry this one is some sort of background, we'll be back to lance next chapter!! (dont worry, its already written, but im trying to get ahead of myself and finish at least chapter 6 before posting it)
> 
> i should really be studying right now, i have an exam in two days,, see you!!
> 
>  
> 
> PS.: as you can all tell, i wasnt able to keep the schedule, i wasnt expecting my life to turn such a turn so quickly, so i dont think i can keep a schedule for this at all,,, i'll try to update whenever i can!! i really really dont wanna drop this fic, dont worry  
> PSPS: i changed the rating just in case... im not planning to add any smut bc im not rly.. confident in my abilities to write it, plus i dont think it'd fit the story, but we'll see how it goes

**Author's Note:**

> my twitter!   
>  my tumblr!


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